


Thor's Epic

by sanura



Series: Pentametric Norse [1]
Category: Copperbadge - Fandom, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Iambic Pentameter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:49:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanura/pseuds/sanura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a retelling of the story of The Avengers from Thor's POV, in iambic pentameter. I know.</p><p>It's Sam's fault.</p><p>Well. I meant to start at the battle, since that's all that Thor told at the dinner table in Copperbadge's Exclusive, but the two lines he gave there, the first two lines, implied Thor started from the beginning. So I started from those two lines (tweaked slightly to fall into pentameter scansion), and went to the end of The Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thor's Epic

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Exclusive](https://archiveofourown.org/works/847207) by [copperbadge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperbadge/pseuds/copperbadge). 



Lo, when, these many months past, I first came  
In search of my long-wayward missing kin,  
The moon beheld me light on Midgard's plane  
And follow every sign of passage left  
In hopes I might encounter the abode  
Where Liesmith spun his tales and wielded truth  
Like precious death-price, hoarding every word  
As though finite and never to be spent.  
Encounter him I did, and not too soon,  
Despite his absence where I might expect  
When I had seen him through great Heimdall's eye  
In Midgard, where he murdered, boasted, thieved,  
And made no recompense to those he wronged.  
And not too soon, I say, I found the place  
Where Silvertongue was prison'd in the air,  
For these my shield-brothers had captured him  
And made but yielding confines for his wiles.  
Amid the thund'rous sky as is my wont  
I smote but gently on the flying jail:  
The swift Midgardian air-chariot  
Could never rival matchless Mjölnir's might.  
The men, and peerless shield-sister to Sif,  
Could understand, and opened up the gate  
Wherein I entered on the quinjet's deck.  
With fierce resolve I saw only the eyes  
That widened green in fretful fear of me.  
That callous one, betrayer of our hope,  
That chaos-twisted remnant of the man  
Who had been son to Frigga, Odinson,  
Did rightly fear me in my thunderstorm.  
The Man of Iron stepped as if to hold  
And keep me from my goal, my brother's snare.  
I pushed that bright and living armor back  
And took the Liesmith by his silver throat.  
I leapt a mighty leap from air's high road  
And threw my thieving brother to the ground;  
He only laughed and postured, in a change  
From his demeanor when I had arrived.  
"Where is the tesseract?" I asked him then,  
With grief and anger plain upon my face.  
"I missed you too," he answered with his laugh  
That mocked my loss, his own loss, brotherhood.  
His trickery infuriated me,  
For worlds were hanging in the balance then  
Between his fingers, on his every word.  
I asked him if my mood looked fit for games.  
He only threw our father in my face:  
He asked what price was paid to bring me here.  
My hand of its own will caught at his neck,  
Again to hold him fast lest he escape  
In his illusion and deceptive calm.  
"I thought you dead," I told him to his face,  
And it was truth, the weapon he abhors.  
He asked if we had mourned, as though his life  
Had meant so little to our kin as that.  
For kin they are, though he denied it then;  
I spoke of Odin, but my brother spat  
The kinship back at me and spurned the link.  
As though our lives as children came to naught,  
As though our mother's love were nothing great,  
As though our father's wisdom gave no joy,  
So had the Liesmith turned his heart away.  
As little meant I to him, as our race:  
Though we were raised together, as I said,  
And though we played together, brothers then,  
And though we fought together, he cared not.  
He crafted falseness for himself in shade:  
Determined to be wronged, he twisted life  
Until his vision only seemed the right,  
And I was sure he coveted the crown.  
He wished to rule, and was denied again,  
And so he tried to take the world I love  
As recompense for his imagined slights.  
The Earth is under my protection! So,  
Despite objections he provided then,  
A protest honeyed through his silver tongue,  
That I neglected Earth, he meant to rule.  
Here, if not Asgard, here in my domain.  
"You think yourself above them," I replied  
In horror at intentions thus displayed.  
And he admitted he felt so, said "Yes."  
"You miss the truth of ruling, brother," fell  
From my lips, and "A throne would suit you ill."  
He turned from me, his back taut in his rage,  
My younger brother, set against me still,  
Said "I've seen worlds you've never known about,"  
Claimed to have grown in exile, learned the truth  
Of that dread pow'r, the Cube, the Tesseract.  
He started, "When I wield it," but broke off  
When I demanded, sharply, "Who showed you?"  
My brother seemed to dance to Others' tunes,  
A puppet of some worldless shadow-king,  
And I would know who held the puppet-strings.  
He raged, "I am a king!" and I, "Not here!"  
I pleaded with him to give up the Cube,  
To give up with it his monarchic dream  
That poisoned him against our family's love.  
Again I took him by the throat, but light,  
And pleaded with him to come home to us,  
But "I don't have it" was his lone reply.  
I could not tell at first if he had meant  
We were his home no longer, nothing less,  
Or if he only hid the Tesseract.  
Both meanings galled me, and I raised my hand,  
And hefted Mjölnir in an open threat.  
He said, "You need the Cube to bring me home,"  
And I was greatly heart-relieved to hear  
That Home was Asgard still, no other place,  
But he continued, "I have sent it off  
I know not where," and smiled a lying smile.  
I know not how to beg, for I am proud,  
Yet I would beg him if I had the way,  
So, "Listen well," I told him quietly,  
Appealing with my strength and dignity.  
And in that moment, as I had his eyes,  
A mighty blow was struck against my side,  
And my potential begging came to naught,  
For I was thrown down mountains and away  
In struggling with the new-arrivéd foe.  
For he who struck me was that armored one,  
The Man of Iron, great in his renown,  
Quick to pursue the goals he deems of worth.  
So worthy did he deem the Silvertongue,  
That he would try with me and test my strength,  
Despite the better judgement of his peers.  
I warned him of the forces he beheld,  
And that this matter was not of his ken,  
And he, like Loki, and yet so unlike,  
Did nothing less than mock in his reply.  
I held my boiling temper tight in check,  
And told the metal man of my intent  
To bring my brother back to Asgard's judge.  
Stark wanted but the Cube for Midgard's SHIELD,  
And not my kin, despite his fight with me,  
For only Loki knew where it yet lay.  
He turned from me, and gave an insult dire,  
Or so I understood it from his tone,  
And I could not let well enough alone:  
So Mjölnir flew at him, aimed in my wrath.  
We rained blows on each other, each for each,  
As serpent-smiling Loki, smug, looked on.  
The Man of Iron yet remains alone  
Among all foes of mine in aptitude  
To turn my lightning back upon my head  
With his own skill in storm-shepherding light.  
His hands and feet glowed as he took the field,  
And Mjölnir dented but did not destroy;  
The ringing of our battle deafened air,  
And noble trees fell hard before our force.  
We struck each other with all limbs and head,  
The white-blue glow of eyes and heart for light,  
Till yet another fighter intervened.  
This noble Captain struck between us, stopped,  
And called out, "That's enough," in skaldic tones  
Commanding and assured, till we looked up.  
Our tournament had only just begun,  
For Star-man called for taking what is mine;  
I find no kindness in demands of me  
That ask surrender of great Mjölnir's might.  
The Man of Iron knew whereof he spoke,  
And warned the noble Captain of my turn,  
For none but Allfather and Frigga bright  
May freely call my hammer from my hand.  
And so I called in boast to that great man,  
And asked if he would have me put it down.  
Leaping a great long leap upon his head,  
I struck Mjölnir with vigor on his shield.  
Behold! A monstrous chime pealed strident forth!  
My hammer and his shield both met their match.  
In my long life I never yet had seen  
Such clangorous resistance to my charge.  
The repercussion threw me far afield,  
And leveled half the forest, so it seemed,  
And blinded us, all three, with lambent glare.  
We rose but stiffly, staring each at each,  
And blinked in silent truce, recovering,  
Until the noble Captain asked, with heat,  
If we had finished our contest of strength.  
It seemed we had; they would not give him up,  
So all adjourned to keep him on our leash.  
We traveled far but quickly, fearful still  
Of Loki's twisted impetus and will.  
We took him to SHIELD's stronghold, locked him in,  
And fastened tight the door lest he go free;  
A great Midgardian of piercing eye  
Held charge over the cell's authority.  
I learned in time of Fury's hidden name,  
And all the secret songs of his dread deeds,  
But as it was, I would not trifle then  
With such a man as held all SHIELD in sway.  
He fell to, to interrogate the one  
Who held the secret of the awful Cube.  
But Loki saw through every sally made,  
And though he could not game the man, he tried.  
My shield-brothers and sisters watched the play  
And made to understand the fearful words.  
For Loki's gift is to unmake the mind  
In hateful mirror of his discontent:  
He knew the prison was not made for him,  
Yet used, despite, on his detention there.  
He looked the watchers in the glassy eye  
And gave us up to lies, as then he spoke:  
"The mindless beast, makes play he's still a man.  
How desperate are you, that you call upon--"  
And here he spat disdain upon us--"Such  
Lost creatures to defend you?" Not yet, no.  
We were not lost, but he, and so we thought  
His influence but little on us then.  
So Fury, in his wisdom, rallied back:  
"How desperate am I? You threaten my world  
With war." His voice was bitter as he said,  
"You steal a force you can't hope to control."  
He spoke of Loki's foolishness and will,  
And how the Silvertongue would kill for sport,  
While telling lies of peace and man's low fate.  
Then Loki sent a volley of high scorn:  
He tried to bait the man out of his calm.  
He spoke to Fury, with words meant for us  
Behind the mirrored wall, listening there.  
He mocked us all, and Fury in his way,  
And said we had but neared hold of the Cube,  
And sneered at Midgard's purpose for its pow'r,  
He said, "Warm light for all mankind to share,"  
As though its help could not defend the Earth.  
But Fury was not taken in by this,  
And left him there to contemplate our win.  
I felt my soul and body torn apart,  
In conflict at my brother's vicious ways,  
In guilt and shame that I had let him fall  
And started him on paths of vengeful wrath.  
The people I had come here to preserve  
Were now inveighing possible attacks,  
And so I had to tell them of the plan  
That I had wrested from my brother's lies.  
I spoke to them of vast Chitauri hordes,  
My brother's trade of armies for the Cube,  
And they were fair amazed, and understood  
And made connections to the word they had  
Of Erik Selvig's capture in a fight.  
They could not understand why Loki's plan  
Might be to let himself fall in their grasp,  
And spoke disparagingly of his name,  
Comparing his ill mind to bags of cats.  
Despite its senselessness, affection rose:  
I turned to his defense, but caught myself,  
As he indeed is not my kin by blood.  
The Man of Iron, shelled of his defense,  
Walked in and came upon us at our talk,  
And struck me, with a smile, upon my arm,  
And gave me satisfaction in his speech  
Erasing insult given earlier.  
The talk went on apace, in earthly words  
That Allspeak rendered fine, but not so clear  
That I could much contribute, as I have  
No use of Loki's magic, nor of Earth's,  
And no great lore of flying monkeys' wings.  
I yearned to make my brother yield his plan,  
But he was ever thus, opaque to me  
And willful to our parents, contrary.  
I held much hope, but not much surety  
In our ability to break his will.  
The Son of Coul assured me that at least  
My gracious lady Jane would travel safe;  
If only I could see her there myself,  
Her good protection I would quite ensure.  
And yet, my friend, a good man, Selvig, still  
Stayed seemingly at will with Loki's band,  
And helped him on his foul, capricious quest.  
I thought perhaps, if I had never come,  
Had never found the New State, Mexico,  
Had never changed the destiny of Earth  
By my hot exile, punishment enough  
For me and for the land where I was sent,  
That all my friends, perhaps my brother too,  
Were better as they were before I came.  
In Asgard, our advancement is pretense  
If our civilization brings such strife  
As Bilgesnipe locking antlers over prey  
And trampling all that lies upon their path.  
For Loki's rage has followed me to Earth,  
And Midgard's people paid the price for it,  
And now again the wergild piled high.  
For in my youth I courted war, but now  
I did not know if I could stave one off,  
For Loki never thwarted easily  
And after his expulsion he ran mad,  
His mind so far afield he claimed to rule,  
And he craved vengeance on me for my wrongs.  
There was no pain would prise his need from him.  
And it did seem a strange coincidence  
That my mad brother was the only one  
Among us with the seeming of desire  
To be right where he was, and not away.  
Alas that his intentions came to light:  
He meant to slip the leash from our best man,  
And goad him into letting go his calm,  
Releasing our incredible reserve,  
The great berserker that is called the Hulk,  
And turning him against us while he fled.  
His fine manipulations took their toll,  
And secrets and agendas came to light  
That would have been the cause of wars themselves  
If Loki weren't already in our ears  
And setting us upon each other's throats.  
In all, it came down to the Tesseract,  
And Loki's mad desire to make a trade.  
Insidious control of chaos reigned,  
And we harped on each other, more and more  
Confusing grievances and quarrels both,  
With petty challenges as though in play,  
Until the words in each of us were drained  
To see the doctor, angered but controlled,  
Admit attempts to slay himself in grief.  
We had no answer for him but blank shock  
And devastation at the thought of loss,  
And then a touch of fear as he advanced,  
With Loki's spear in hand unknowingly.  
For Laufeyson had made a deadly feint,  
And while we argued over everything,  
The Tesseract, and who was duty-bound  
To hold and keep it with or without use,  
My brother's thralls attacked us in our flight.  
A crash reverberated through the ship,  
And cast us wantonly about the deck:  
The motion of the helicarrier  
Was much diminished by the Liesmith's strike.  
The kindly doctor and the Widow bright  
Were thrown beneath the room with furious din.  
The Man of Iron and the Spangled Man  
Were gone like wraiths, to keep the ship airborne,  
But I could hear the doctor's struggling breaths,  
And all despite the Widow's calming words,  
He lost his hold on the internal cage  
That kept his great berserker hard at bay.  
As I could hear the Hulk give wracking chase  
To stalwart, brave Natasha through the wall,  
I took the shorter way, without a door,  
And closed in awful combat with the Hulk.  
We fell through walls and floors, in crazéd course,  
And onto polished ground in the great port.  
We came back to ourselves, as soldiers ran  
Away from our great striving, from the hall,  
And I looked up at his magnificence,  
In jade and emerald anger, living ire,  
Content to try with him to keep him safe,  
And keep safe those with purpose in the air.  
Though I cried, "We are not your enemies,"  
To bring him to his senses, rage prevailed,  
And in his fury, he let rain his blows,  
Though strategy with him is oft amiss.  
I raised my hand for Mjölnir, called it home,  
And never did I wish more for its speed.  
At last, my hammer reached me, and I struck,  
His great jaw never even giving way,  
As did the ship he battered when he fell.  
He cast a piece of metal at me then:  
I ducked it and cast Mjölnir back at him.  
He did not think to dodge, but held to it,  
And flew with it in hand back to the deck.  
He wrestled with it, his frustration plain,  
But even his great strength did not avail:  
Despite the man's nobility and worth,  
That hammer is called Thor's, and did not move.  
His great feet dug into the deck below,  
Until I closed with him, tried to subdue,  
And grappled with his potent form again.  
He threw me clear as shots began to fall  
From outside the great window of the port,  
And little did he heed them, but to turn  
And wave them off as though they were but flies.  
He leapt across the ever widening gulf,  
And made short work of the assailant there,  
Though let his senseless guilt now be assuaged:  
The man escaped the flight, and landed safe.  
The fearsome giant wrecked the great machine,  
And fell with it the long, long way to ground,  
Loud bellowing and roaring all the way,  
While I tore off to find my brother free.  
Distraction, so it seemed, succeeded then;  
He'd held me off for long enough to flee.  
I saw him at the gate of the great cell,  
Escaping the Midgardians' device,  
Despite our greatest efforts to secure  
The deviously scheming lord of lies.  
I charged him, and I would have knocked him down,  
If Loki that I saw had been the truth,  
But even in his form, he ever lies,  
And vanished as I reached him, fully gone.  
I had not seen this trick in many years,  
For we had played in childhood, in this way;  
His magic multiplied appearances,  
And I could not tell which was true or false,  
And so he trapped me once more, to my shame,  
And mocked me in my constancy of loss.  
Betrayed again, and torn in violent rage,  
I swung a hammer blow upon the glass.  
To my surprise, the cell door only cracked,  
But all the ship was shaken like a die.  
Then Loki smiled, and walked to the machine  
That held the key to dropping free the cell,  
And mocked me once again, with others' words,  
And made to test my immortality.  
But then! The Son of Coul announced himself,  
Requesting Loki move away from there;  
He carried a fell weapon in his hand,  
And did not hesitate to make it known.  
He boasted finely of its recent make,  
As even he did not know what it did,  
And offered to let Loki find it out.  
His valiance in face of base deceit!  
Long may it be remembered on the Earth,  
And in the halls of Asgard, whence I hail,  
For I must never fail his accolade.  
Let it be sung all through the wide World-Tree,  
That fearless, quiet man, the Son of Coul,  
Did raise defeat over my brother's name,  
And fell in dogged battle by a trick.  
For Loki could not win against him fair,  
So mirrored yet again his outer self,  
And crept invisible behind the man,  
To run him through while he looked on withal,  
And from behind, that coward's craven strike.  
I screamed in bitter anguish at the sight,  
Denying what I could of what I saw,  
But Loki threw him hard into the wall,  
And carelessly returned to throw the switch,  
Dissolving any yet-remaining hope  
That I might cling to in my sharp despair.  
He let my prison fall. I raged inside.  
The fall was not a straight one, nor was still,  
And my escape seemed hopeless as my love  
For Loki, murderous as he might be,  
Until I set my feet upon the wall  
Of my revolving cell, and squared myself  
To jump with Mjölnir from one wall and out,  
And shattering the walls before egress.  
The impact robbed me of my waning calm;  
Mjölnir too was thrown out across the fields,  
And tore a furrow deep into the ground,  
As did my own hard fall, another way.  
I lay there for a time, my spirit tired,  
And though I am not given most to thought,  
I could not help but ponder all that passed,  
And how we came to this, Liesmith and I,  
And though he was a soldier, that great man,  
The Son of Coul was dead by Loki's hand,  
And now my brother sped towards command  
Of this Midgardian dominion here,  
Despite the opposition of these men  
And women of the realm in their array,  
Resisting him despite his conjuring,  
And protestations of man's character  
In speeches on their base natural state,  
Which he held to be servitude and yoked  
To higher purposes he would provide.  
My misbegotten brother! Then I mourned,  
And knew never again would we be kin  
In heart and spirit, though I gravely wished  
That we had never come to this affair,  
And searched for paths among my actions all  
That would have branched a different way of things,  
Something I could have done, or never done,  
That would have kept my brother from this rage  
And madness born of jealousy of me,  
For I indeed was cause of all this woe.  
If I had never let him fall, perhaps  
He would have understood a brother's love,  
And that of both our parents in his time,  
But I had felt his cold hand slip from mine  
Upon the Bifröst on that curséd day,  
And now the world of Midgard was to pay.  
I could not let him further injure them,  
And so I came on Mjölnir in the field,  
But stopped. For if this sorrow was all mine,  
If I had caused these passions in my kin  
And all the kin of Midgard, would it come?  
Was I still worthy of my father's right?  
Would Mjölnir rise for me, come to my hand?  
It did. Never have I been more relieved.  
For I must follow where the chaos led,  
And intercept the Liesmith on his way,  
And stop his mad, dark zeal from further spread.  
I felt the call of magic gathering:  
I knew he would be there and nowhere else.  
I raised the hammer, called the lightning down,  
In ever-greater peals of thunder loud,  
And made the greatest speed I had yet made,  
With Mjölnir singing hard in both my ears.  
The scalding sun beheld me search in vain,  
For far too long a time, though thunder roared,  
And I arrived too late to stop the bridge  
That Loki had prepared in arrogance.  
I saw the beam, and knew he would be there,  
Exulting in accomplishment and death,  
And there indeed he was, admiring all  
The sounds and sights of earth in misery.  
I knew he would accost me jealously,  
But still I came to him, without a choice.  
If by engaging him, I could prevent  
More wanton magic from his bloody hands,  
Then I would fight for days, and never rest.  
And so I threatened him, and pled with him,  
To turn the Cube from its destructive task,  
But as I knew he would, he plain refused,  
And taunted me to fight. So be it, then.  
We fought. A legion of Chitauri flew,  
Though our good allies hindered them, they came,  
And still I fought with Loki on Stark's ground,  
Evading many blows, but taking some,  
And falling to his scepter's magic once.  
The Hawk-Eyed One attempted to assist,  
And banked his armored chariot to us,  
Releasing all its wrath on Loki's head,  
But then availed himself of all his skill  
When Loki struck the plane with magic's fire.  
The Widow and the Hawk-Eyed One's descent  
Was well-controlled, for all the damage done,  
And I resumed attack and rose to fight.  
Another miracle to Loki's side,  
For then came down a huge Leviathan,  
Arriving through the portal, surging forth,  
To reinforce the rest already through.  
I wrung a victory from Loki then,  
By raining blows until he stopped to breathe,  
And showed him what he wrought with his design.  
I made him look upon the burning wreck,  
The city wreathed in flames and dying men,  
And asked him if he thought his rule would end  
The madness he beheld beneath our feet.  
"It's too late," he replied, and shook with grief,  
Said, "It's too late to stop it," once again,  
And I had hope. I said to him then, "No.  
We can together," holding us both still.  
That moment was eternity to me.  
The tears rolled down his face. His breath came short.  
The Liesmith wove my hope around me tight.  
But it was never armor hard enough:  
For then he thrust a knife into my gut  
And dripped with scorn, dismissing sentiment.  
The knife was but a splinter, finger-small,  
And I grew strong with anger, and with hurt,  
For though our fighting was in earnest yet,  
And war raged everywhere, its aim to kill,  
I had not more than half-believed he would,  
As we fought hard, yet we were brothers still.  
I smote him in an incandescent rage,  
And flung him to the ground. From there he fled.  
He caught a passing chariot and flew,  
As I unstuck the knife from in my side.  
If I could not contain my brother's ire,  
Then I would help my comrades in the field:  
I brought my lightning down upon the heads  
Of all the vile invaders I could see,  
And roasted those Chitauri in their shells.  
The noble Captain and the Iron Stark  
Were well-besieged beneath a closing line,  
Until I reached them, beat the comers back.  
The Captain asked me for intelligence,  
And all I knew was what shielded the Cube,  
And that I must find Loki once again,  
But strategy prevailed, and we regrouped.  
Just then, the kindly doctor found us there!  
And only just in time. Leviathan  
Was guided round the corner of our road,  
And none of our fine fighting had a way  
To stop the massive creature in the air.  
But Banner turned and bravely ventured forth,  
Despite his fragile frame. And then he changed,  
Divulging to us all his power's price:  
His anger is the fuel for the Hulk,  
And never does it cease. He smote the beast.  
The Man of Iron shot it in the side,  
As Banner turned it right upon its head,  
And then it was no more. We closed our ranks.  
Our band beheld the ever-growing threat,  
As more Leviathans passed through the gate,  
And Loki's chaos only grew apace:  
More enemies defeated, yet more came.  
The Captain called a plan to us: we split.  
The Man of Iron took the Hawk-Eyed One,  
And set about containing our fell foes,  
And I was called to hold the portal ground,  
Or, rather, air, and keep the neck as closed  
As one can make of such a dreadful gate.  
I took a hold of Mjölnir, flying up,  
And looked about for metal to align  
As closely as I could with gate and sky.  
I held to a great tower, metal-sheathed,  
And called with all my might unto the sky,  
And Mjölnir crackled with a bluish light,  
A herald of a greater light to come.  
For then I called a burst of lightning down  
Which had no equal in my prior life,  
And set it on the portal in the sky,  
And channeled it upon the enemy.  
In ranks and ranks they fell and were pushed back,  
A wave of shock dispersing through their force.  
I killed my own Leviathan as well,  
But still they came, and numberless they seemed.  
I held pursuit upon their endless ranks,  
And drew them to my shield-brothers to kill,  
But kept the maelstrom within my reach.  
The Widow valiantly joined my fight,  
Achieving her own chariot to drive,  
In tandem with the Man of Iron's flight.  
Their work was like a dance, and soon was joined  
Upon the ground by our great Captain's part,  
As though we had been fighting all our lives  
As shield-brothers and sister from our births.  
The Hawk-Eyed One took care of every stray,  
With legendary timing, sight, and aim,  
While, at my side, the great and glorious Hulk,  
Though volatile, was ever at my aid.  
We fought together, as shield-brothers ought,  
Together taking a Leviathan,  
And bringing it with effort to the ground.  
Admiring our great kill, we stood its back,  
And then the green imp hit me (though a friend),  
And threw me flying from our vantage point.  
His smirk was visible from where I fell.  
I could not help but smile with him, despite.  
We ran back to the fray, for all the fight  
Still bloomed upon this island everywhere.  
Countless Chitauri chariots fell dead  
Beneath my hammer and my empty fist,  
Until I could return to help my friends.  
I spent a time at our great Captain's side,  
Destroying all who came upon us two,  
For trusting him to hold firm at my back  
Has never been a question since we met.  
We threw our hardy weapons once again,  
Those well-matched shield and hammer striking out,  
And he was gravely hit. I helped him up,  
Asked if he could sustain another bout.  
He merely joked, and bravely battled on.  
A-sudden, we could hear the Widow's voice,  
Proclaiming she could shut the portal down!  
The Captain ordered her to close the gate,  
But Stark asked for delay, to let us wait,  
Until he could send something through as well,  
And there was little time before its harm  
Would merciless spread pandemonium  
And thoroughly annihilate us all.  
He wrestled with the weapon, forced it up,  
And flew it through the portal to the foe.  
It seemed eternity, and little time,  
Until the vast explosion tore the sky,  
And all around us, the Chitauri fell.  
They dropped like insects, down without a touch,  
But all our eyes were fixed upon the gate.  
The Man of Iron did not come back through.  
Our hearts clenched in our throats, but we all knew  
If that explosion reached us, all was lost.  
The noble Captain gave the last command,  
And our Black Widow closed the portal down.  
But see! A figure plummeted right through,  
Before the gate had closed up all the way.  
He fell, and fell, and slowed down not a whit,  
And I prepared to catch him in his fall,  
But our green friend had matters well in hand,  
And leapt the distance, catching him in flight.  
We came upon them, hoping against hope,  
But never did the Man of Iron move,  
Not even when I tore his helmet off,  
Until a peerless shout from Hulk's great throat.  
The Man of Iron started, coughed, and spoke,  
And all of us were lighter by a stone.  
He wished assurance he had not been kissed,  
Then called for feasting, praising our good work.  
But there was yet a fight to finish off,  
So I looked up, and told them all as much.  
We came upon my brother in his pain.  
He crawled about the tower, pitiful,  
And had the wit (for wit he never lacked)  
To make surrender to our single front.  
Our weapons all were aimed upon his head,  
And no one showed him merciful regard.  
Our battle then was won, Manhattan saved,  
As much as could be salvaged, battle-bled,  
And all its people now to build again.  
The only task remaining, all but one,  
Besides the journey home to Asgard bright,  
To take my brother home in penitence,  
To prison him in walls no one could breach--  
The only work on Midgard that remained  
Was joining with my shield-comrades in arms,  
Adjourning for a mighty warriors' feast.  
And so we feasted, weary but alive,  
And glutted on our triumph, victory,  
Devouring fine Midgardian delights,  
Amid the dust of hard-won rest, content.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Wordwitch, who got me an AO3 account just for this crazy endeavor.


End file.
